


Drip Drop

by TheTerrorDome



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: henry just contemplates his situation and how he might not get out alive, so its kinda depressing, very existential
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20984375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTerrorDome/pseuds/TheTerrorDome
Summary: The ink on the walls feels like it's closing in on him, like it's crawling up his legs and slowly taking him. Taking him where? He doesn't know.





	Drip Drop

**Author's Note:**

> Day ten, I couldn't think of much to write so it's kinda not good so sorry

Ink pooled at Henry’s feet. It filled his shoes and cling to his socks. No matter how many times he stopped to dump them out they always filled back up. His skin stained and his clothes sticky, he was constantly shivering. The ink was like ice. Blankets of ice, covering every inch of the studio. He had never grown attached to his animation job. Never seeing his wife and being constantly overworked didn’t exactly foster a tender relationship. And Joey. 

Joey has to be the worst of it. Henry tried. He really tried to make Joey a better person. To help him. But it was like Joey said, he just didn’t push hard enough. Was this meant to be pay back? But for what? Henry left everything he had created to that point to Joey. He left so much of his work behind. The studio was set up to succeed, he’d made sure of it. What went wrong? 

Henry stared down at his shoes, filling with ink. 

The studio wasn’t anything like he remembered, yet exactly the same. The familiarity of the Bendy cutouts. The motivational posters. The plaques on the walls with the names of his former colleagues. 

It was all covered with ink. 

It was all deteriorating and tainted. The flooded halls and painted walls. The music department had the worst of it. He hadn’t been around long enough to see the construction of Heavenly Toys, but he assumed it didn’t originally look like that.

The creatures lurking in the darkness were strangely familiar. It was like Henry had Déjà-vu. But how could anything in the inky nightmare be familiar? Anyone? Henry didn’t want to believe in the possibility of what those creatures could really be. 

The ink sloshed under his feet. He wasn’t sure where he was going. He knew the layout of the studio, somewhat, but it had changed so much.

Passing by a stack of Bendy cutouts, Henry shivered. The studio didn’t feel real. Not even just the ink, but the decrepit foundation was beyond belief. He couldn’t let his guard down. All of the ink spills could be monsters waiting for him to get close, and he had no way of telling. He ducked into a room shoving a Bendy cutout under the doorknob to keep out any unwanted guests.

Henry collapses into a chair running his fingers through his ink stained hair. What was he going to do? There was no way out. Everything was out to kill him. He should have never come back. Henry sunk into the chair squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t give up. But how was he supposed to keep going?


End file.
